Never Speak of This Again
by HumpbackWhales08
Summary: Mr. Linus had always been Alex's favorite teacher. When she invites him to her house for dinner and confesses her feelings, he may or may not feel the same way. Includes Sideways Ben and Alex. OneShot.


"Mr. Linus?" Ben jumped at the sudden sound of his name behind him, jolting his coffee onto the papers scattered over his desk. Ben turned to see Alex Rousseau leaning against the door frame to his classroom. Seeing her teacher's coffee spreading over his desk, Alex rushed over to try and help him gather up the few dry papers before they were soaked as well.

"Jeez, Mr. Linus, I'm sorry," Alex said apologetically, handing Ben a handful of dry papers. Ben looked down at Alex's soft, young face and smiled at her.

"Oh, don't worry about it. No harm done." Alex's big blue eyes bore deep into his own, and he had to look away from her to keep himself from blushing.

"I really hope those weren't anything important," Alex said, watching awkwardly as Ben grabbed a handful of Kleenex from the box on his desk and futilely dabbed at the drenched, brown papers.

"They were just the term papers from the honors class," he said mildly, his neck prickling pleasantly as he felt Alex's concerned gaze trail over his skin. Glancing up, he said with a smile, "None of them were very good. With exception to yours, of course." Alex beamed at the compliment, brushing a bit of her dark hair off her shoulders.

"Well, I appreciate you tutoring me on it. And my college admissions essay. If it wasn't for you, I don't think I would have gotten in." Alex looked away shyly, and Ben felt his chest begin to fill with a silly sense of pride.

"No, that's not true at all. You would have gotten in regardless of my help." Alex stepped closer to Ben, so close to him that he could smell the scent of strawberries in her thick, ruffled hair. Ben cleared his throat uncomfortably, feeling his palms beginning to sweat. He glanced towards the door, making sure nobody wandered into the room to force the conversation to an end.

"No, I really mean it, Mr. Linus," Alex continued fervently. "I owe you a lot." She paused to look up into his face, following the light creases and folds of his face with her luminescent eyes. Ben smiled awkwardly and pretended to dab again at the soiled papers. "Actually, Mr. Linus, my mom wanted me to ask you if you'd like to come over for dinner tonight. Sort of as a thank you."

"Oh," Ben said, caught off guard, standing up from stooping over his coffee-stained desk. "Yeah, I'd love to." Alex's face broke into a toothy grin, her blue eyes wrinkling at the corners.

"Great. Six thirty?"

"Sounds wonderful."

Ben had arrived at the house ten minutes early. He glanced at his watch and then at the house on the cul-de-sac. He drummed his hands nervously on the wheel, wondering if he should drive around the block a couple times or just go in. He glanced again at his watch. Alex was the type of person who was always early anyway, so her mother was probably the same way. It would make sense for him to be a little early, too, he decided, as he got out of his Prius. He reached back into the car to grab the bottle of wine he had brought. Ben had received the wine at one point as a present, but had never gotten around to drinking it. He didn't have many people to drink with, anyway.

Ben pushed the doorbell, the shrill sound startling him even though he had anticipated it. Quickly, he ran a hand over his hair and then smoothed the front of his dinner jacket. He had to rummage in his closet full of sweater vests to find it, a relic of when dinner parties were a common occurrence for him.

Alex opened the door. Her face was full of the polite curiosity people have when answering doors but quickly cracked into a smile at the site of him. "Mr. Linus! Come in!" Alex said warmly, opening the door to let her guest in.

"Thank you, Alex." He reached over and placed the re-gifted wine bottle into her hands. "Give that to your mother."

"Sure thing. She just stepped out for a moment. We ran out of parmesan for the pasta," she explained over her shoulder as she made her way to the kitchen to put the wine bottle in the fridge. Ben looked down at the floor just inside the doorway at the line of women's shoes in front of him. After a moment's indecision he slipped off his loafers and placed them in the line.

Alex wandered back into the living room, instantly noticing her teacher standing awkwardly in his argyle socks. She giggled slightly. "You didn't have to take off your shoes," she said, secretly endeared to the Ben standing before her in his stocking feet.

Ben shrugged awkwardly and looked away. "I just – I didn't…" he stumbled, searching for something, anything, to say that didn't sound like something he'd say: pathetic and unfunny. To Ben's gratefulness, Alex disregarded their conversation and changed the subject.

"Dinner's in the kitchen. I made it myself, so please lie if you don't like it," Alex said shyly, beckoning Ben into the kitchen.

"Oh, I'm sure it'll be delicious," Ben offered lamely, following Alex into the kitchen. As he followed her, it was as if noticing her for the first time. She wore a lavender dress, cut to her knees, with a plunging neckline that Ben glanced at but quickly looked away from. Her long legs were bare and her dainty feet were adorned with white heels. Ben instantly felt drab in comparison.

"Oh, my," Ben exclaimed as he entered the kitchen. The table was elaborately set with lit candles and flowers in a vase. The pasta was already on the table, steaming and hot. The lights had been dimmed so that Ben had to blink to readjust his eyesight before making his way to the table. "This is very beautiful, Alex," he told her, honestly admiring the detail she had put into the table. She beamed in response, her face glowing in the flickering candlelight.

"You can go ahead and sit down if you'd like," she said, taking the chair opposite from him. He paused before sitting down at the table, unsure.

"Shouldn't we wait for your mom?" he asked, puzzled. Then he noticed that the table had only been set for two. Alex remained quiet for a few seconds, biting her lip in thought.

"Well, we'd be waiting an awfully long time," she answered with a guilty smile. "I…I lied to you. My mother's actually on a business trip until tomorrow." She reached over to help herself to a serving of pasta, doing anything to not meet Ben's gaze. Suddenly, she felt very stupid. The whole idea was stupid, stupid, stupid. It had seemed so smart, so infallible in her mind. It had played out like a romantic comedy, where things like this never seemed desperate or creepy, just thoughtful.

"Oh," Ben said lamely. He let out a controlled breath of air. "I guess I don't understand what…what this is about, then." Ben lifted a hand to gesture towards the whole table. Alex tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and licked her full lips nervously.

"I'm not really sure, either, I guess," she said, her nerve falling away from her, her blind courage moving out of her grasp. "I just…I don't know. I think about you all the time. And I thought that…since graduation is this weekend and I won't be your student anymore…and I'm eighteen…" Alex looked down at her plateful of pasta and laughed mirthlessly. "I guess I thought that you might like me like I like you." Suddenly, she shoveled a huge forkful of pasta in her mouth. "Stupid," she added, her voice muffled by her full mouth.

Ben's heart melted, watching Alex struggle over those words. Instantly, deranged fantasies of them together filled his head: some very graphic depictions of them in bed, some very innocent and romantic. He pictured himself walking with her, her hand grasped in his. He pictured her tilting her chin up to kiss him lightly on the lips. He pictured them in dozens of romantic settings, each one more ridiculous and clichéd than the last.

"Oh, Alex," he said in a pitying voice, a voice that was more directed at his own life, his own emptiness than at Alex's childlike ploy to win his heart. He reached over and put his hand over hers, a movement that felt both extremely natural and extremely forced. "You're a very beautiful, smart, kind girl. And I – any man would be so lucky to be with you. But I can't…" his voice trailed off. The images of him with Alex began to fizzle and flicker, as if they were playing on an old television set. He had had a crush on Alex since her first day of high school, a crush that he tried desperately to think of as fatherly concern rather than desire. This, this was his one chance, his only chance, to indulge in that desire.

Alex pulled her hand away and began to dig again at her pasta. "I know," she said with a sigh of embarrassment. Suddenly, she gave a small, shamed chuckle. "Let's never speak of this again."

Despite the tenseness at first, the meal went relatively smoothly after that. Alex chattered on about what classes she was thinking about taking in her first year of college, and Ben gave her what little scholarly advice he could. At the end, Alex politely walked her teacher to the door, her hands crossed in front of her chest, still fighting of the feeling of humiliation. Ben thanked her and walked out the door, Alex closing the door softly behind him.

Then, as if he had forgotten something important, Ben spun around on his heel and made his way back up to the door. His body moved of its own accord, ignoring his brain's pleas to go back to his car and drive back to his lonely, empty house. He felt his knuckles rap smartly on the door. Alex answered the door almost immediately, her expression brimming with confusion. Ben felt his hand reach up and gently grasp the side of her face. He pulled her face up to his and lightly pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, pulling away quickly. Alex smiled dreamily at him and bit her lip in amusement.

Returning her smile, Ben said quietly, "Let's never speak of this again."


End file.
